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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434015">This City is Going to Break my Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfarawaygirl/pseuds/farfarawaygirl'>farfarawaygirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chicago Fire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bachelor Party, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:15:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,224</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfarawaygirl/pseuds/farfarawaygirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you going to do something about that?” Severide is clutching his longneck bottle, smug smile on his face. </p><p>Matt follows his gaze, Sylvie is spinning wildly around, her hair a golden cloud around her head. </p><p>“I’m trying this new thing where I don’t rush everything I do, and ruin it in the process.”</p><p>Kelly laughs. </p><p>“Don’t wait too long,” he shoots Matt a look, eyes back to dance floor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>296</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this a few weeks ago, pre Julie’s death  </p><p>I just want them to get together!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Severide throws the lamest bachelor party in the history of bachelor parties. Kind of. It’s not lame. It’s just not the type of bachelor party he would have thrown even three years ago. </p><p>One, Sylvie notes, there are men and women invited. </p><p>Two, there are no strippers. </p><p>Three, it’s dinner at a nice restaurant, with plans to go clubbing after. </p><p>Sylvie is here because even though she’s a bridesmaid, and recovering from the bachelorette, she’s also one of Cruz’s best friends. Which also means, she knows practically everyone there. Cruz’s little brother, his cousin Epifano, practically everyone from shift, Peter Mills, and Gabby. Which isn’t a problem. She loves everyone here, there’s just the inconvenient hitch that she realized just this morning how idiotic her crush on Casey has gotten.  </p><p>It was always a bad idea, she’d never debate that, but after the year she’s had, after the losses she’s lived through, it had felt so innocent and unproblematic. Until, it wasn’t. Until her heart sped up at the sight of him. Until he was the first person she confided things in.</p><p>Until his ex-wife showed up. </p><p>She’s making her way back from the bathroom, when she realizes that enough people have moved places after they’ve eaten, that she has no where to go, but the empty chair beside Matt. She had been smart earlier, and had camped out down at the end by Foster. But now, Capp and Tony have moved their drinks down with them. </p><p>Sylvie is searching for her wine glass when she hear Matt call her name. </p><p>He’s holding her wine glass. In fact, he also has her coat and purse on the chair beside him. The chair that Gabby was sitting in for dinner. Uneasily Sylvie slides into it. </p><p>“Thanks.” She takes her mostly untouched wine, and looks around for a distraction. </p><p>“Who are you avoiding?” Matt is suspicious, leaning into her, with his arm on the back of her chair. </p><p>“No one!” She protests, still looking around. “Fine. Kidd.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Sylvie takes a sip, she’s not really a red girl, but they made a mistake, and she wasn’t about to make a fuss. </p><p>“She’s been on me about finding someone to go with to the wedding. Even though I told her that I’ll be too busy with bridesmaid stuff.”</p><p>Matt’s eyebrows are raised. </p><p>“You don’t have a date?”</p><p>Sylvie frowns at him, “which what spare time would I find one? I’m either at work, at spin class, dealing with family drama or with you.”</p><p>She didn’t really mean to say that last part. Though, they do spend a lot of time together. Especially lately. </p><p>“Besides,” Sylvie course corrects, “we’ve already established that I am the worst at relationships. I’ll probably die alone.”</p><p>Matt snorts. </p><p>“No.” He declares. “You won’t.”</p><p>If she had had more to drink, Sylvie might have said something like, “is this you asking?”, but she hasn’t. And she doesn’t, thankfully. </p><p>“What about you?” She asks, gearing up for something she does not want to hear. “Who are you going with?”</p><p>“I kind of figured you and I would go together.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes, “you did not.”</p><p>“Seriously. Like you said, with what spare time?”</p><p>“What about Gabby?”</p><p>She wishes she could rewind the clock, and un-ask that question. </p><p>“People don’t usually take their ex-wives to things.”</p><p>“Just charitable gala’s?”</p><p>“You said I’d regret it if I didn’t.”</p><p>“What do I know?”, Sylvie retorts, “I’ve never been married.”</p><p>Matt is smiling at her. She likes that she is quick enough, and self deprecating enough to make him smile. Severide is making an announcement from the far end of the table, Sylvie leans in closer to Matt to hear. Something about bills, and getting to the club. </p><p>“Did I miss bills?” Sylvie says, scanning the table. </p><p>“I got you.” Matt replies, finishing his scotch. </p><p>It’s stuff like this, that helped turn her innocent crush into this current problem. </p><p>“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”</p><p>“I’m just pissed you ditched me for dinner.”</p><p>“Hey!” Sylvie elbows him, “I was giving you time to work your moves.”</p><p>“I don’t want to work any moves on Dawson.”</p><p>Okay? That’s kind of clear. He’s moving on. Maybe? Or maybe she’s misreading the situation, again. Sylvie decides to keep her mouth shut. </p><p>“Hey you two!” Gabby is back, lips stained from her red wine, and that usual magnetic energy she has. Sylvie has missed her friend. Like, really missed Gabby, I’m so many ways over the last two years. </p><p>Trying to discreetly shrink away from Matt, she greets her back. </p><p>“Ready for the next event?” Even as she speaks, there is a ruckus rousing cheer from where Cruz and Severide are standing, Mills’ arms around them both. </p><p>“Peter Mills.” Gabby observes fondly, rooting for jacket and pulling it on. </p><p>“He looks good,” Sylvie adds, more to keep the conversation off her than anything else. </p><p>“Good enough for a wedding hook-up?” Gabby waggles her brows at Sylvie, “you guys totally had a moment back in day.”</p><p>Matt’s giving her an amused look. </p><p>“No wedding hook-up for me.” Sylvie replies, pushing her wine glass away. “I’m too old for hook-ups.” Both of her friends, who are older than her, laugh. </p><p>“Sure,” Gabby concedes, “you say that now, but then it’s dancing to old standards, and drinking sparkly champagne. You’re a romantic Sylvie Brett. Weddings are you weak spot.”</p><p>“Still hasn’t managed to make one stick,” Matt jokes, harkening back to their earlier conversation. It makes Sylvie laugh, she laughs even harder at Gabby’s shocked expression. He seems relieved at her laughter, briefly running his hand down her bare arm, giving her his best Matt Casey smile. </p><p>“Wanna split an Uber?” Gabby’s asking, flipping through her phone. </p><p>“I drove,” Matt replies, standing up. “If Sylvie agrees to ride in the middle, you can come with me.”</p><p>Sylvie looks up to see that Foster and Kidd are already heading outside. Ritter, who is DD-ing, catches her eye and mouths that he has room. She shakes her head, pointing to Matt. </p><p>What the hell? Her hearts already bruised, might as well break it. </p><p>When she turns back around, Matt’s holding out her jacket, ready to help her get in it. Her necklace snags on the tags, and before she can ask for help, Matt is there. His rough hands are incredibly gentle pulling at the clasp, and lighting the skin at the back of her neck on fire. It takes him a moment, when he’s done she turns to thank him, and her mouth goes dry. </p><p>She thought his signature Matt Casey look was the earnest one he gave when listening. But, honestly, this should be his only look. Eyes darkened by widened pupils, mouth slightly parted, in the terrible lighting of this restaurant. </p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>Gabby’s still typing away on her phone, distracted and by the door, “let’s go!” She calls. </p><p>When they walk to he door, Matt’s hand settles in the small of her back, just north of inappropriate. </p><p>She does ride bitch. Which is annoying, because of the length of her dress, far too short for this weather, and the maddening way that Matt’s leg presses into hers. Seriously, it kind of unfair. Gabby talks the whole ride about her latest project, and the team she is leading. </p><p>“You sound happy.” Sylvie states. </p><p>“I’m where I’m meant to be.” </p><p>It’s not meant to callous, or petty, but it still stings a little, and Sylvie wasn’t even married to Gabby. She looks over at Matt, just to see his reaction. She thinks she could lead a masterclass in his micro facial expressions. </p><p>For example, there’s the tick at the corner of his eye that lets her know he’s vaguely uncomfortable. She can tell by the rise and fall of his brow that he’s not unaffected by Gabby’s statement. But, maybe he could lead a class in her attempt to read him, because he nudges her lightly with his knee. </p><p>Eyes on the road. </p><p>“So, no wedding hook-up, no fiancé, no current boy toy, does that mean that you’ll save a dance for Antonio?” Gabby is watching Sylvie closely. </p><p>She feels Matt tense beside her. </p><p>“I’d dance with anyone who had manners enough to ask,” is her prim reply. </p><p>“But you don’t want to go there again?”</p><p>“Why beat a dead horse?”</p><p>The words come out, and Sylvie struggles to correct them. </p><p>“I mean, why do something I know won’t work?”</p><p>Good lord, someone stop her. </p><p>“Why open a door that you closed?” Matt supplies, switching lanes, voice light. </p><p>Gabby leans over Sylvie a bit, looking at Matt. </p><p>“Why keep looking at a broken clock?”</p><p>Did she just witness they’re tacit agreement to not fall back into old habits? Sylvie feels a little ill. </p><p>Matt parks, groaning when he sees the line outside the club.</p><p>“Your too old for hook-ups, then I am certainly too old for clubs.”</p><p>Gabby is laughing, even as she get out and joins Severide and Kidd on the sidewalk. She sends a fleeting glance their way, but keeps moving. </p><p>“Ok,” Matt says, “forty five minutes and then we leave. I’ll even buy the get away falafel.”</p><p>“Deal,” Sylvie offers her hand, Matt shakes it. He pulls her from the drivers side of the cab, hand guiding her waist over the dirty street. Severide has indeed come through, his buddy welcomes them straight through, no wait times. </p><p>It’s loud and sweaty. Both dark and bright, overwhelming your senses. Matt’s hand finds Sylvie on the blinking darkness, hauling her along. The VIP is the same, just elevated and behind ropes. A waitress with silver grey hair is delivering pitchers of beer, and bottled vodka. </p><p>“Forget you, I’m too old for this.” Sylvie has to stand up in her toes to whisper that into Matt’s ear. His laugh makes it worth it. </p><p>“Friends!” Cruz calls out they draw nearer, arms outstretched. He’s a lot passed tipsy. </p><p>“Glad Severide’s the one in charge or him tonight.”</p><p>He pulls them in tight, arms banding about their necks, faces pressed together. For a moment in the flashing club light Sylvie and Matt are face to face, bare millimetres apart, eyes open. </p><p>“You are the best Truck Captain in all of Chicago! And you’re the best CIP, CPI, the best PIC!” Cruz stumbles over the words, swaying with them. “I’m getting married!”</p><p>Sylvie pats his shoulders, calms him down a little, listens to him talk about Chloe and her silky hair. About how Rizzo is his child. Matt can’t think about anything else other than her face from moments ago. He joins Gallo and RItter, pours out actual glass steins of beer (just for the VIP’s!). </p><p>He keeps on catching Sylvie’s eye. Glad to find her looking for him, as often as he’s looking for her. One moment she’s drinking water with Joe, then she’s talking with Gallo, she brushes her hand up his arm when Kidd drags her into the dance floor. Matt keeps an eye on her, enjoying her so carefree and wild. </p><p>Foster and Dawson have joined them, with Ritter and Gallo not far behind. Matt wasn’t lying, he is too old for this. </p><p>“Are you going to do something about that?” Severide is clutching his longneck bottle, smug smile on his face. </p><p>Matt follows his gaze, Sylvie is spinning wildly around, her hair a golden cloud around her head. </p><p>“I’m trying this new thing where I don’t rush everything I do, and ruin it in the process.”</p><p>Kelly laughs. </p><p>“Don’t wait too long,” he shoots Matt a look, eyes back to dance floor. A tall man with grey hair has moved in on Sylvie, stopping her mid spin by grabbing her hand. Matt’s already moving towards her when Foster elbows the guy out of the way, he doesn’t course correct, just battles through the crowded dance floor to stop in front of her. </p><p>Foster is giving him an amused glance.</p><p>“Is it time?” Sylvie sounded hopeful over the thrum of club music. Matt nodded. They should leave. Turning Sylvie made her goodbyes, hugging Foster, waving to Kidd and Dawson who were dancing farther away. When she turned back around, Matt reached out, snagging her hand in his. It’s because of the crowds he reasons. </p><p>It has nothing to do with always wanting to take her hand.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am in denial about Julie.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They eat falafel smothered in creamy yogurt sauce in his truck, Sylvie’s feet propped up in his lap, her heels removed. It’s feels homey. Snug. Familiar. Matt does his best to keep her laughing, telling stories from his academy days. Street lights send an orange glow down around her, painting her hair and skin, making her otherworldly. </p><p>“Is there something on my face?” Sylvie swipes at her face, pressing a napkin to her lips. </p><p>“No.” Matt swallows hard. “Just looking.”</p><p>“At me?”</p><p>“At you.”</p><p>Her laugh is loud in the cab of his truck. “Why?” Matt knows he has to say it, right now, or this moment will pass him by like all the others. </p><p>“Because I like looking at you.” Sylvie blushing all the way to her collar bones. “I like most things about you.” She is looking at him with an intensity that might scare him, if he didn’t run into fires for a living. Lately, she has been the person he thinks of when he’s making choices. He thinks it’s the same for her. She is blushing in the cab of his truck and he can’t think of the words. </p><p>Because he is a man of action, he moves. Deliberately Matt moves his hand from her ankle to her knee, tugs her closer. She slides across the leather bench seat, emitting a surprised squeak. Matt takes the mostly empty container of falafel and moves it to the dash. Sylvie is now half in his lap, her knees crooked over his thigh. Slowly, giving her time to pull back, Matt slides a hand into her hair, holds her blue gaze as he leans in.</p><p>It’s fireworks. </p><p>He’s kissed a lot of girls. Girls he barely knew. Girls he intended to marry. Girls who he knew would break his heart. But none of those kisses, none of those girls, made him feel like this. </p><p>Matt’s not a guy who takes safety for granted, he values it, has craved it most of his life. He feels safe when he is kissing Sylvie. Like she understands the value of his heart. It’s a welcome feeling, one he wouldn’t have known to want before this moment. But now he knows that he needs safety to want more with someone. </p><p>She’s shaking a little beneath him. Trembling in his arms. The only answer is to pull her closer. Sylvie wraps her arms around him, the feeling of safety multiplying. This is a good choice. This is the best choice. </p><p>“I’ve wanted to do that all night.”</p><p>When she responds, Sylvie is a little breathless, “you have?”</p><p>“I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”</p><p>Sylvie leans back in. She kisses him with a tenderness that makes him a little uncomfortable in its unfamiliarity. It’s been lifetime since someone was this tender with him. Matt feels hope building in his chest. He didn’t just screw up one of the best relationships in his life. Their kissing has escalated, Sylvie is practically in his lap, Matt keeps hitting his knee on the steering wheel. </p><p>“Sylvie,” Matt groans out her name, trying to slow it down, “Sylvie, we are in my truck.”</p><p>“So take me home.”</p><p>Because he’s a bit of a Boy Scout Matt does as he’s told. He helps Sylvie back to her seat, even as she laughs at him for buckling her up. She holds his hand as he drives back to her apartment, gives him a look when he parks that seems to say, ‘you know your coming upstairs with me’. And he does know it.  </p><p>It seems as though he has know for a long time where this is going. Matt can’t put to words the relief he get from being able to make decisions about the relationship he is in. </p><p>“You know this has nothing to do with Gabby being back in town, right?”</p><p>In the hallway Sylvie stills, both of her hands wrapped around one of his. </p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Matt wants to tell her things he hasn’t ever said out loud. He wants to tell her about his childhood, his dad. He wants to explain to her what Hallie meant to him. Detail the heartbreak that was and is Louis. He wants to spend hours wrapped up in her. Lost in her eyes and safe in her arms.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Who is ready for Wednesday?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Today’s the day, wedding day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Distantly Matt hears someone speaking. In an attempt to stay asleep he rolls over and right on top of something warm and soft. The soft thing groans. The soft thing is Sylvie. Suddenly there are many things he would rather do than sleep. </p><p>Her hands find his sides as he works his way up her neck. </p><p>“Morning.”</p><p>In the morning light Sylvie’s voice is low, right by his ear. Matt delights in the hitch in her breathing as his hands move south, that is a sound he could never tire of being the cause of. He’s good to go. Based on the way Sylvie is clutching him, she is too. </p><p>“Matt!” She gasps out his name, fingers digging into his ribs. Seriously? The way she says his name really, really works for him. </p><p>Someone is knocking at the door. </p><p>“Sylvie!” Foster is calling her name, lightning quick Sylvie reaches down and grabs his wrist. “Julie is here.”</p><p>“Give me a minute!” Sylvie voice is tight, unusually high pitched, Matt grins into the soft skin of her neck. </p><p>Her hand is tight around his wrist, but she is gripping his neck with her other hand, so Matt whispers, “give me five minutes.”</p><p>The tenseness in her muscles fades, she relaxes underneath him, laughing. When she pushes at his chest, Matt rolls over, hailing her with him. She lands on his chest, naked and smiling. “We can’t.” But she is kissing him back, hungry and sloppy. “Julie’s out there.”</p><p>“Are we genuinely being interrupted by your mom?”</p><p>Matt counts it as a victory when she lets out that raspy gasp again. </p><p>“Seriously!” Sylvie is looking around the room, “where is my shirt?” She’s straddling him, and Matt wants to point out that she looks just fine without a shirt. Great even. He sits up, pressing their chests together, this does little to help the situation. </p><p>“I promise I will make it up to you.”</p><p>“Deal.”</p><p>Matt picks her up off him, gets her feet on the ground, tosses her his shirt while she wiggles her way into a pair of leggings. She comes back to him, kisses him quick and dirty and then flashes him a grin from the doorway. He is dead gone for this woman. </p><p>Matt lays back down in bed, grabs his phone while Sylvie talks to Julie. Checking the time and looking at his plans for the day. He has one afternoon appointment, but he thinks he can make it quick and get back to Sylvie. Back to this. </p><p>Thirty minutes after she left, Sylvie is back, Matt hardly gets time to react before she is peeling off his shirt and settling on top of him. It would be embarrassing how turned by her is, if he wasn’t ready to admit to himself how much of his heart she holds. Matt spins her around, delighting in the way she clings to him.  Something about Sylvie that he has grown to love over the past months is the way she doesn’t shy away from vulnerability. She is open. He can read her face. </p><p>He breaths it into the soft skin of her ribs. “Thank you.” Sylvie nails scrape over the sensitive skin on his back, she’s urging him upwards, catching his lips with hers. </p><p>“For what?”</p><p>Matt shifts his weight, hooks Sylvie under one knee and pulls her up and over, landing her firmly on his chest. Shrieking, Sylvie clings to him. Matt catches her chin with his nose, nudges her until she looks him square in the eye. </p><p>“I’m so glad I looked up one day and saw you.”</p><p>Blinding. That is how he’d describe the smile on Sylvie face. Utterly blinding. Earth shattering. </p><p>“Matthew Casey, you are the most wonderful man in the world.” She settles herself on his chest, kisses his pec before she rests her chin on her arms. They stare at one another, comfortable and honest. Gently Matt brushes her hair back from her face, Sylvie purrs like a cat, nuzzling into him. </p><p>“I suppose now as good a time as any to ask,” Matt kisses the closest part of Sylvie he can reach, “do you want to go to Cruz’s wedding with me?”</p><p>“That depends. What are we doing for the rest of today?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Should I keep going?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>One episode left!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hammering the final nail in place Matt finally feels like this afternoon wasn’t a giant waste of time. When he got to the job site today, the owner had been apologetic, but let him know they had tried to fix the wall themselves. Which had turned a two hour project into a six hour one. Matt looks at his watch, winces but keeps going. He’s got maybe thirty minutes of work left, then clean up. </p><p>But the time he makes it to his truck, it’s already 8 pm. They are on shift tomorrow, and then the evening after they got off is Cruz’s wedding. He knows how busy Sylvie is, she’s got bridesmaid duties, he’s got groomsmen duties, but he really wanted to see her. He had called her around 6, apologizes and begged off dinner. Matt swings by a deli he likes, grabs a sandwich and chips on his way home. </p><p>Severide and Stella are at Molly’s, so Matt eats over the sink, downs some water and hits the shower. He’s itching to talk to Sylvie. Wants to tell her about the dumbass who thought they could fix their own basement load bearing wall, and frankly he wants to see her. Still in his towel Matt sits on his bed and pulls her up in his contacts. </p><p>She answers on the third ring. </p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>Suddenly the afternoon job that became an evening job doesn’t even matter. </p><p>“I’m exhausted.” Sylvie hums sympathetically. He wishes she were here. An elevator dings down the phone line. “Are you going out?”</p><p>“I’m arriving.”</p><p>Matt hears the rap at the door both through the phone and down the hall. Nothing could stop the smile spreading across his face, he’s at the door as fast as he can be. There she is. Make up free and dressed down in leggings and an old CFD sweater. </p><p>“Hey.” Sylvie is biting her lip, a little shy now that’s she’s here. Pulling her in by her waist, Matt turns that shyness to smiles, kissing her. </p><p>“I’m so glad you’re here.”</p><p>Sylvie wraps her arms around his neck, leans on him, ignoring his still damp from the shower body. Matt bends his knees and lifts her a little, holding her up and he pulls her down the hallway, the toes of her shoes barely touching to floor. It’s ridiculous how happy her just being here makes him. </p><p>They fall onto his bed, Sylvie cuddling into him, making a contented sigh. In relationships Matt’s always been too much, too fast. He’s never really understood the concept of taking things slow. But, he thinks, he’s also never really had the ability to call the shots. Not that he wants to call all the shots, he just wants a partnership. With Sylvie he thinks that might be what is growing between them. </p><p>“You smell really good.”</p><p>Matt kisses her temple, pulling her more firmly to his side. </p><p>“What did you do this afternoon?”</p><p>Sylvie tells him about helping Chloe and Chloe’s mom set up wedding favours. As she talks she makes circles with her fingers on his side, leaning onto his shoulder. Matt listens as she tells him about how Foster and Cruz spent the afternoon lying on the floor in the living room with Gatorade and soda crackers. </p><p>“Hey, so, some weird news to tell you.” Matt tips his head towards hers, meeting her eyes. “Joe told me that Kyle will be at the wedding.”</p><p>Matt takes a moment, “as in Kyle Sheffield?” Sylvie nods. “Your former fiancé?”</p><p>Sylvie furrows her brow at him, “Matt, we literally had dinner with your ex wife yesterday. How is this different?” Rolling onto her stomach she looks up at him, propped up on her elbows. </p><p>“I don’t know.” Matt feels irrationally jealous. “Maybe because he got you to move to Fowlerton.”</p><p>Sylvie blinks at him. “I came back.” Her expression is still so open, her face right there for him to read. </p><p>“I hated it when you were gone.”</p><p>She leans into him, her head over his heart. </p><p>“I’m not going to leave again.”</p><p>There is something about the way she says it, maybe the softness of her voice, or the way she says it like it’s a promise. Understanding. If anyone knows what he had felt when Gabby left it was Sylvie. Last summer when Sylvie had left it had opened a different sort of wound in Matt. The death of a possibility. Like something had disappeared, and only then had he known how essential it was to him. </p><p>“Good.” Matt found her hand, and entwined their fingers. “Because I kind of like you Sylvie Brett.”</p><p>“You’re not to bad yourself, Matt Casey.”</p><p>And if he kissed her, it was because he wanted to, and he was tired of denying himself the simple pleasures of life. </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>Sylvie starts awakening his arms, the sound of Severide slamming the front door having woken her up. Matt tightens his hold, hoping to keep her there; she is warm and curled around him. </p><p>“Matt!” She whispers, digging an elbow into his ribs. “I have to go.”</p><p>“What?! Why?” Matt keeps his eyes closed, enjoying the warm skin of her thigh under his hand. </p><p>Her laughing response is felt through his whole chest, “because we work in 4 hours!” </p><p>“So, stay.”</p><p>Matt’s squinting at her in the pale Chicago moonlight, not yet releasing his hold. </p><p>“We agreed...” Sylvie trails off, sucking in air as he pulls her more firmly on top of him. “We agreed that this was just an us thing.”</p><p>“For now.” Matt reminds her, kissing her neck and stroking her back. </p><p>“Right,” Sylvie scrapes her nails against his biceps as he finds a sensitive spot on her shoulder. “Until after the wedding.”</p><p>Even though he knows she means Cruz and Chloe’s wedding, there is a promise in her words. A possibility there that excites him. Matt slides a leg against her, using his upper body strength to roll her beneath him. One of the new things he’s discovering about Sylvie is that she is very vocal. And very demonstrative when she likes what he’s doing. </p><p>So, yeah, he’s confident he can get her to stay. </p><p>He’s amazed it took him this long to do this. He’s amazed that it’s been barely 24 hours and he’s so in tune with her. </p><p>“Matt!” It’s almost a whine, almost but not quite. “I need to go home.”</p><p>“I’ll take you in the morning.”</p><p>“I drove here!”</p><p>Honestly, he’s obsessed with her laugh. It’s almost as good as that noise... there it is. Her hands tighten around his shoulders. “Matt.” He’s not mad about how she says his name either. In fact, it’s becoming glaring obvious to him how already engaged in this, in her, he was before he managed to get his shit together. </p><p>Everything with them is so new, but undercut with this beautiful rightness. It’s electrifying to be touching her. Matt can’t get over the fact that he gets to touch her. That she’s here now, in his bed. Now he just has to figure how to make sure she never wants to leave. </p><p>It’s a quarter to six when Sylvie really does get out of his bed, find her clothes and insist she has to go home and shower. For the first time since he showered last night, Matt puts on clothes, pulling on some gym shorts. He follows her down the hall, distracting her the whole way. Sylvie has her hand over Matt’s mouth, pushing his face away when the light in the kitchen flicks on. </p><p>Sylvie’s startled face is comical. She half falls over, clutching at Matt’s hand. At the other end of the kitchen Severide is standing there, just in sweat pants, an equally surprised look on his face. </p><p>“Brett.” Severide takes a moment to take in the situation. Sylvie’s wild hair, her casual clothes, Matt in just his gym shorts, and looking equally as rumpled. “Ok, then.”</p><p>Removing her hand from her chest, Sylvie attempts to regain some dignity. “Severide. How was your night?”</p><p>Kelly’s eyes light up, “good, but probably not as good as yours.”</p><p>Sylvie is blushing. God, Matt loves it when she blushes. </p><p>“I’ll see you in a few hours.” She nods to Severide, her expression softening when she turns to Matt. “I’ll see you soon.” She pops up in tip toes and kisses him, Matt snags an arm around her and kisses her back soundly. </p><p>“Text me when you get home.”</p><p>“Aye, aye, Captain.”</p><p>She’s quicker than him, stepping back and winking as she exits the apartment, but he knows that they will have to revisit that later. After she has gone, and Matt has looked the door, he turns to meet Kelly’s knowing smile. </p><p>“I guess you finally did something about that.”</p><p>Pride swells in Matt’s chest. “I guess I did.”</p><p>Kelly is watching him. </p><p>“I’m glad I did.”</p><p>“Good for you, man.”</p><p>Kidd stumbles into the kitchen, hair in disarray around her face, “what’s good for the Captain?”</p><p>“Brett.”</p><p>Casey winces, remembering the discussion to keep things between them for now, but that quickly changes to a smile when Kidd throws her arms around him. “She’s was the girl in your room? Finally! She’s been into you for ages.” That confidence boost helps. “Oh, calm down, we all know you’ve been into her just about as long.”</p><p>“It’s new, we’re figuring it out.”</p><p>“She tell you Sheffield will be at the wedding?”</p><p>Matt glares at Severide. </p><p>“Hey man, don’t kill the messenger.”</p><p>Kelly is leaning on the counter while Kidd starts a pot of coffee. Hazelnut. </p><p>“Anything I need to worry about there, Kidd?”</p><p>Stella looks up, pressing buttons to make the coffee start. She scoffs. “No. Kyle, and Fowlerton belong in the rear view.” She considers him, brown wrinkled. “How new is this thing, that I am just hearing about it.”</p><p>Casey’s the one blushing now. “Post bachelor party new.”</p><p>Kelly’s laughing at him, still propped up on the counter. “I knew it! Brett in that dress,” he lets out a low whistle, raising his hands in innocence at the look both Kidd and Casey send him. “What? A guy can’t appreciate?”</p><p>“No.” Casey’s answer is lost as Kidd says, “she was fine.”</p><p>“I’m hitting the shower.” Casey leaves them in the kitchen, making it back to his room in time to see the notification. </p><p>Sylvie Brett: Safe at home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Odds on us getting a kiss this season??</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Drop a line! Tell me what you think</p></blockquote></div></div>
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